


Worthy To Say

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sebklaine - Freeform, WARNING: Blaine Musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 14:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine angsts his wee heart out before Kurt leaves for New York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worthy To Say

Originally posted to the Glee Kink Meme [here](http://glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/28110.html?thread=32905166#t32905166). First installment of the _Blaine is a Giant Pouty Suck_ series.

 

 

Blaine wants to put his hand on his boyfriend’s thigh.

He wants to lean over and squeeze the tight clench of Kurt’s quad, ease the way that Kurt is sitting so straight and even, the toes of his ankle boots pointed neatly at the base of the table.

But if Blaine leans over, he’ll break the perfect prism they make around their little table in the Lima Bean, the one just to the right of the counter, brushed by the flow of customers stumbling to the cream and lids, ideal for people watching. One, two, three chairs perfectly positioned, three pairs of legs thoughtfully contained in the three equal segments of space.

Blaine keeps his hands to himself, and Kurt keeps aborting unconscious attempts to cross his legs, and Sebastian keeps his arms carefully crossed.

The restraint is bitter. Before, before it was three of them, even the quick clasp of Kurt’s hand was enough to invite mild outrage and disapproving stares. Blaine can only imagine the shock and bosom-grabbing that would ensue if he gave into his desire to drag his chair up beside Sebastian, slip under his arm. Let Kurt drape across their laps, gift them both mocha-flavoured kisses.

“Time?” Sebastian asks Kurt, who is turning his phone in his hands.

Normally Kurt would roll his eyes. Meticulously list all the sources by which Sebastian could easily determine the time for himself. Instead, he doesn’t hesitate, just grimaces and replies with a sigh.

“Twenty minutes.”

“Fuck it, we can make out in the car.” Sebastian starts to get up.

“No, wait,” Blaine says, putting a hand on Sebastian’s arm. He pulls his fingers back, back into his third of space. He reaches out with his other hand and touches Kurt’s sleeve too, just a touch, the time spent in connection equal to that with Sebastian. They look so much alike, Kurt and Sebastian, when their lips are pressed tight in impatience.

“It’s only twenty minutes. We aren’t going to get another chance to hang out here for four months. We’ll miss it, I know it,” Blaine explains. Twenty minutes of time to kill until Sebastian’s parents leave for their Boys and Girls Club fundraiser. Twenty minutes until they won’t be caught sneaking down to Sebastian’s basement bedroom.

“Blaine...” Kurt says, and Blaine knows what’s coming. Another useless argument. “You two aren’t going to stop coming here on my account. One, you won’t be able to survive without a daily quality coffee injection. Secondly, you two know I’ll only avoid feeling guilty about hunting down the best baristas in New York if I know you’re still being adequately fueled here at home.”

Sebastian retorts before Blaine can patiently explain again.

“We won’t be doing it for you, sweetheart. I don’t need a daily reminder of where you’re not.” Sebastian smirks sadly. “Other than not in my bed.”

Kurt’s wide eyes go glassy as he darts heartbroken looks between Blaine and Sebastian, and Blaine almost gives in. Almost reaches over to pull Kurt into his arms, knowing that Sebastian will shore Kurt up on the other side, stares and shocked gasps be damned.

They have three days, but Kurt’s time is barely his own. Tomorrow night has been deemed a Hudson-Hummel family bonding night, the last Burt and Carole will have with their boys before they head east. The night after that, the night before Kurt leaves, Rachel’s dads are throwing a goodbye party. Then Kurt is up at 4:00am for the 10 hour drive to New York.

They have to make tonight count and already Blaine is feeling the pressure. Maybe not the pressure to perform, that comes easily enough when you have two really ridiculously good-looking boyfriends. But the pressure to make every moment into a memory he can hold on to until Thanksgiving, tuck every touch and breath and look from Kurt into his bank of keepsakes.

And truth be told he’s worried. They’ve had a summer to crystallize this thing, this relationship that maybe works too well for them. He had resigned himself to needing Kurt a long time ago. Needing Kurt’s unconditional support, his admiration, his careful honesty, his love. And that need hasn’t lessened since they pulled Sebastian and his surprising sweetness into their little gravitational center.

And now Blaine needs Sebastian too. The way Sebastian can fluster Blaine with his intelligence and his shameless drive and then melt Blaine with his vulnerability, kissing Blaine’s eyelid and mouthing apology after apology into his temple. How he’ll bowl over Kurt’s articulate critiques and call Blaine out for being the arrogant ass he is. How he’ll still loyally sit in the front row of all of Blaine’s King’s Island 80s Dance Party performances, grinning toothily and clapping like a madman.

He also worries because Sebastian needs Kurt. He needs Kurt's strength and patience and his conviction that all of Sebastian's snarling attitude is just a defensive front for a scared little boy. Sebastian needs Kurt, who will snipe and argue and fight right back until he knows, just knows, that all Sebastian needs is to be tackled down and held tight. And Kurt won't let go even when Sebastian fights and squirms and calls Kurt a bitch.

Blaine doesn't have that trust, can't help being hurt when Sebastian is on the war path. Blaine just wants to get out of the way before the urge to hit Sebastian gets too strong. It's no secret that Blaine has a temper, and Sebastian is more than smart enough to know what buttons to push.

Blaine will never forget the one and only time they got in a shoving match. Kurt had been devastated. Kurt had been there to cry out, stopping them, to whisper through his tears how disappointed he was in both of them. Kurt had been the one to cup Sebastian’s face in one hand, to raise him up from where he’d kneeled, sobbing into Kurt’s leg after yelling himself hoarse.

Blaine hadn’t realised at the time, didn’t know until Kurt tiredly explained it to him later, but Sebastian had been scared. Scared of being cast out of their thing, of their then fragile little three-sided web. Blaine would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt a flash of that desire. To go back to a simpler time when he didn’t want to punch a boyfriend in his smarmy face.

It makes Blaine’s palms sweat to think that he’d been so close to ruining the best thing in his life because he wasn’t as compassionate and mature as Kurt had the strength to be.

And so he’s worried, because while they will have Kurt through texts and Skype and long late night phone calls, they’ll be sharing the energy that Kurt selflessly pours into the success of the three of them. Sharing that energy with a fire hose flow of new, exciting experiences. Living in the greatest city in the world, a full course load, stage performances, keeping Rachel sane while Finn goes to school in Jersey. Being surrounded by thousands of older, sophisticated men, not high school boys from Ohio.

Not that Blaine suspects Kurt will cheat. That’s laughable. But he might get worn down. Like a stone in a river of hot, accomplished, New York guys. Guys who aren’t a pair of needy, unstable, 17-year-old morons like Blaine and Sebastian.

“Sebastian and I are going to get coffee at the Speedway gas station while you’re gone. It’s going to be humbling, but will likely start a trend,” Blaine says, trying for a Kurt smile.

“Yep. We should talk to them about a revenue sharing program,” Sebastian adds.

“You’re going to hang out in front of the Speedway with the skaters?” Kurt snorts delicately, touching a finger to the corner of his still-teary eye. Blaine’s heart clenches.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that not only can I ride a skateboard, but my brother bullied me into learning how to ollie.”

“I’ll believe that when I see you failing spectacularly trying,” Sebastian says, grinning around his coffee.

“Challenge accepted, Smythe,” Blaine grins back.

Kurt sniffs and the tears break free. “You guys are going to skateboard? Why is that so hot? Why am I so upset?”

“Oh Christ,” Sebastian curses and looks significantly at Blaine, tipping his head to the door. They both know that the tears are going to escalate as Kurt succumbs to another perfectly understandable but also high-pitched crying jag.

“Let’s go,” Blaine says quickly, squeezing Kurt’s shoulder and grabbing their satchels.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Kurt flaps a hand at him, standing up and tugging his vest straight, head high despite the tears. “I’m a mess. And it’s not going to get better. Can we go make out now?”

Blaine doesn’t even look around to see who’s heard them, just smiles. He’s an idiot for wanting to waste time not touching in a coffee shop full of people he couldn’t care less about.

“Of course.”

\------

They take the Navigator to the Glory Gully, a podunk lookout on the north side of Lima. Early on a Thursday night the dirt lot is empty and so they park and Sebastian heaves Kurt into the back seat with an unhelpful and groping hand on his ass before climbing back after him.

They pile onto Blaine with little thought to knees in his crotch and that’s okay with Blaine. He’s relieved that Kurt got his breathing under control and his tears in check when Sebastian had gently taken his keys, climbing into the driver’s side and keeping a hand on Kurt’s knee for the entire drive to the Gully. He just wants them both to be happy, ease the pressure of Blaine’s mental burden of cataloging and storing every last minute.

“Omf!” He grunts anyways, when Sebastian lands, straddling Blaine’s knee, catching himself with a hand on Blaine’s stomach.

“Mmmm, sorry, gorgeous,” he says distractedly, already pulling Kurt towards his mouth, thumb worming under the tucked shirt at Kurt’s waist.

They’d never really perfected the three-way kiss, which is messy and not that enjoyable for anyone, all tongues wriggling in the air and faces smashed together. However, they’re goddamn certified masters in the art of the two-way kiss with a third person taking a supporting role.

Blaine _loves_ watching Kurt and Sebastian kiss. It’s crazy hot, and he sometimes forgets his throat-nuzzling responsibilities when watching them. Eyes closed, all long necks and soft skin, Kurt’s flawless and pale, Sebastian’s golden and dotted with freckles and moles to be traced.

Kurt breaks the kiss with a smile, tips his forehead to Sebastian’s and hums with pleasure. This is a good moment to remember, Blaine reminds himself. Right here in the dusty Ohio summer light coming in through the tinted windows, Kurt’s and Sebastian’s expressions heavy-eyed and wanting before Sebastian ducks and grabs Kurt’s bottom lip with his own lips, jaw working into the kiss again. Blaine’s nose pressing into the hollow of Kurt’s cheek, lips on his chin, one hand cupping the back of Kurt’s thigh, the other hand pulling Sebastian’s ass closer, rubbing up through the stretch of Sebastian’s jeans with his leg.

“God, I will miss this,” Blaine mumbles, trailing his lips across their locked faces to the sharper cut of Sebastian’s jaw, letting his tongue press against Sebastian’s skin. Sebastian is a little saltier than Kurt, tastes a little more like boy, a little less like French moisturizer.

“No you won’t,” Kurt breathes back, and Blaine can feel it through their connection, through his hand that is now wrist-deep in feeling Kurt up through his legs. Through his mouth on the corner of Sebastian’s, through the tightening of Sebastian’s torso under his arm.

“I’m not going to be responsible for turning you two into..sex martyrs, okay?” Kurt pulls back and says with his special brand of soft conviction.

“Good band name,” Sebastian smirks, but his profile is thoughtful, his kiss-mussed hair drooping into his eyes.

Blaine leans in, bumps Sebastian’s nose with his own, tightens his arm around Sebastian’s side.

“It’s not about that. Kurt..just because you’re going away, that doesn’t change anything. I mean, between us three.” Blaine braces himself. He’s not good at talking about the logistics of the three of them. His speciality is shameless declarations of love, which are comparatively effortless. It’s so easy and so gratifying to look into Kurt’s eyes while he’s singing _I love you_ in an auditorium full of people. It’s easy and as compulsive as blinking to gasp _I love you so much_ when Sebastian is fucking him against his bedroom wall, the confession making Sebastian whimper and fuck up into him like a piston.

He’s totally okay with leaving it up to Kurt to define them. Kurt has and will make them sit down and actually discuss their feelings. Will ignore Sebastian’s rolling eyes and grind him down until Sebastian’s mouth is trembling and he’s quietly and seriously discussing his insecurities about being stuck at Dalton while Kurt and Blaine spend more and more time at _your smelly public school_ , practicing for Nationals. It’s Kurt who will forget about putting creases in his slacks and pull both of them down to Sebastian’s bed, putting their heads on his chest and sketching their future Manhattan apartment in the air.

But he’s wrong about this. Kurt’s solution to Kurt going away is to put himself on the bench. To sit out until all three of them are in New York and they can more easily be Kurt and Blaine and Sebastian, instead of Kurt and Blaine and their suspiciously close gay friend Sebastian. He’d even gotten as far as suggesting that Blaine and Sebastian publicly come out as boyfriends for their senior year. But Sebastian had quickly shut him up with an angry kiss, shooting a desperate look to Blaine over Kurt’s shoulder where Blaine was clinging hard to Kurt from behind. No way. As much as Blaine loves Sebastian, as much as he’d adore holding Sebastian’s hand on visits to Dalton, it wouldn’t be any easier to pretend it was just the two of them then it is maintaining that it’s just Blaine and Kurt right now.

Blaine doesn’t even want to pretend right now. Only keeps it up to avoid giving Burt another heart attack. To stay practical, a little further under the radar of people who will never, ever understand what they’ve miraculously cultivated between the three of them.

Kurt gives so much of himself to reassuring and aligning them, Blaine just wants to make sure Kurt doesn’t leave without his own reassurance.

Blaine looks to Sebastian, and Sebastian is already mirroring his exasperated concern. No joke in his eyes, Sebastian gives a little nod, waiting for Blaine to finish.

“Look, when you or I are at work, or Sebastian is at tournaments, we’re all good with a little one-on-one action, right?” Blaine starts.

“Sports metaphors already?” Kurt chuckles, arching back into Blaine’s hand running up his back. “Yeah, I know Sebastian can’t go long without a c-cock in his smart mouth.”

Kurt stutters on the word cock, can’t talk dirty to save his life. Just like Kurt’s gasy sex faces, Blaine thinks it’s adorable.

Sebastian snorts, levels his brows. “Kurt, are you really ready for a cock-slut competition? I’d do my impression of you but there’s not enough room to bend over in here.”

Kurt’s eyes go wide, but before he can retort, Blaine continues, pinching the rise of Kurt’s ass above his pant line.

“ _Anyways_ , we’re all hormonally driven around here, and as mentioned, it’s nice to let you two worship my cock even if we’re not all available at once.”

“Yeah it is,” Sebastian purrs, cupping Blaine through his pants, finding the head of his dick and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Perks of two boyfriends. Never go wanting.”

Kurt nods and his fingers weave into Sebastian’s big hand, so Blaine has a lap full of squirming self-confessed cock sluts cupping his package and distracting him from his point. He snakes his arm from behind Kurt and lays his own hand over theirs, stilling their fingers.

“My point being, that if it’s just me and Sebastian, or me and you,” he kisses Kurt’s cheek, “or you two together, it’s good. It’s great. It’s outrageously fantastic. But it’s not _this_.”

Blaine tries to encompass everything about _this_ with a shrug of his shoulders. How even after the taboo of a threesome had worn off, how much more thrilling and perfect it was with the three of them.

 _This_ was the trust they’d managed to carve from the first time they’d all fallen asleep together, tangled on the mangy old couch in the choir room after Sebastian had been the only kid outside of McKinley to come to Kurt’s inaugural meeting of the Lima Teen LGBT Association.

 _This_ was the way Blaine can step out of his comfort zone and into a confessional place where he is notorious for fucking up. He can do it because Sebastian is there, warm and close and has a reassuring thumb brushing the short hairs at the back of Blaine’s neck, and Kurt, with his earnest eyes, is worth the risk.

“So what I’m saying, what we need you to know, is that _this_ isn’t going to change. And we don’t want it to. And you had better be thinking about this,” Blaine pauses and twitches his hips up under their hands, “when you’ve got flexible dance majors throwing themselves at you.”

“Or theater groupies,” Sebastian adds.

“Or your professors.”

“Or rich, dirty old men.”

Kurt’s laugh tinkles and bounces around the car interior. “Unlikely. And not a temptation.”

But he still leans forward and gives Blaine a sweet kiss with a breathy, “You’re everything to me.” And then a kiss for Sebastian, who is so beautiful like this, his severely handsome face transformed with sincerity. “Everything.”

Sebastian’s voice is low and muffled against Kurt’s mouth. “I’m going to take care of him.”

“You need to take care of each other,” Kurt replies, and a tingle of desperation ripples out to all Blaine’s limbs.

A secret part of him selfishly wants Kurt to stay. Doesn’t believe Kurt when he says Blaine and Sebastian are everything to him because if they were, then he’d stay. Defer his admission at NYADA and wait for them. Stay in Ohio and take care of both Blaine and Sebastian, not abandon them for a future they’re supposed to have together.

But a Kurt who stayed, who didn’t launch himself bravely into the challenge of surviving New York and college and a real life outside of Lima, that wouldn’t be the same Kurt they loved so much.

“We will,” Blaine whispers. He shifts and pulls Kurt over top of himself, scooting down the bench seat so that Kurt is locked between him and Sebastian, whines when Kurt bumps his head on the roof of the car and huffs a laugh.

Sebastian tucks his legs up around them both, gropes around until he’s holding Blaine’s fingers tight over Kurt’s heart.

They stay like that until the sun sets over the highway, far past the time they have to kill. They don’t talk anymore, just breath in the dim air that is growing more muggy with the smell of the three of them.

Eventually Sebastian straightens from his hunch around Kurt’s shoulder. He kisses Kurt’s temple and then brings Blaine’s fingers to his lips.

“Come on. We have one more night. Let’s go make it difficult for Kurt to sit for long car rides.”


End file.
